


Wanderer

by Noxmortis



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Gen, Genderbending, Time Travel, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, Tony is a girl
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-09
Updated: 2015-06-18
Packaged: 2018-04-03 16:40:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,848
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4107778
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Noxmortis/pseuds/Noxmortis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After Ultron, Toni watches her teammates fall apart because of her mistakes. She knows they hate her, and kind of feels the same way. So she makes a deal. Toni can change the pasts of her team, but saving them means condemning herself. (<i>It doesn't matter,</i> she thinks. <i>All you've ever done is ruin other people's lives, Stark, and now you can fix </i>everything.)</p>
<p>Even if saving the ones she loves means losing them, too.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>(Now cross-posted under my FF account Lunar Crystallos.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The End

**Author's Note:**

> I will not abandon this story. I will finish it. But I have tendinitis in my wrists, so updates are going to start out slow. I technically shouldn't be writing at all, but, well… yeah, that's not going to happen.
> 
> … what do you mean I'm doing two fanfics with tendinitis? I have no idea what you're talking about.

Even when the Ultron thing is over, Toni can’t stop thinking about it. Once again, she had created something, something that was intended to save lives, but had done the opposite. How many were dead because of her? How much blood stained her hands? How many innocents were _murdered,_ because once again, Toni freakin’ Stark fucked up?

Too many. Way too many.

But that’s not even all of it. Because Wanda’s vision is still branded into her head, replaying every time she closes her eyes. Toni can still feel the empty coldness of space, the horror as she watches the Chitauri army descend onto earth. And she can recall the terror, with perfect clarity, that overtakes her as she glimpses the broken bodies of her teammates.

Then Steve says, “You could have saved us.” 

That breaks her in so many ways. Because that means that it’s all her fault. It’s her fault that these people, these wonderful, wonderful people, are dying. It’s all her fault, just like everything else is.

And Fury’s right. The earth being slaughtered, her family dying, (although they don’t consider her family - no, she’s destroyed too much, ruined too much for that) isn’t the worst part. The worst part is that she’s still alive, uninjured, watching it all happen. She should have done something, should have died with them. 

And then Toni opens her eyes, and feels sweeping relief because that’s not real, it didn’t actually happen. But reality comes crashing back down a second after that relief, and she realizes that just because it didn’t happen doesn’t mean it won’t. Next time she makes a mistake, it _could_ get her family killed, it _could_ destroy the earth. And at the rate she’s going, it isn’t really a _could_ so much as a _will._

_The end of the path I started us on._

So Toni throws herself into training the new Avengers team. When shit hits the fan again, they’ll be ready. They will be able to defend themselves and the world from whatever horrible thing next decides that the earth looks _tasty_ or something equally messed up.

The genius finds herself forgoing sleep during her newfound task. When Friday tells her that she should take a break, she points out that she did the same thing at MIT, she did it when she was obsessing over building more suits, and she can do it again. 

“That isn’t exactly reassuring.”

“Friday, mute,” she says, whenever the AI brings it up.

She spends her nights building armor and new weapons and camouflage and whatever else strikes her as a necessity for the Avengers to have. She spends her days with Natasha and Steve, training the new members, teaching them how to work cohesively and combine attacks and just in general not get killed. 

Any other moments are spared to build tech for the new Avengers facility. She leaves Fury mostly in charge of the Avengers organization, because 99% of the employees are former SHIELD agents, and she knows that if he’s in charge, there will always be a backup plan for the worst-case scenario. The fact that he managed to keep a working helicarrier despite the Hydra fiasco is proof of that. Plus, she knows that he honestly does care, no matter how cold he pretends to be, and trusts him entirely. (That, and he’s a bastard who would inevitably end up in charge anyway. Better to just let him at it and skip all the manipulation.)

Toni sneaks in catnaps during her short breaks, and for a while, everything seems to be going well. But then Steve disappears for a week, and when he comes back, he’s different. It’s like when he’d only been out of the ice for a month, waking up to discover that everything he loved had died of old age.

Toni figures out what happened when she stumbles across a crumpled up picture of Bucky next to a file that she really shouldn’t have opened. There’s a map inside, and news articles, and holy shit Steve’s best friend is the Winter Soldier. At first she thinks _okay, I can deal with this. Wanda might even be able to help Bucky with his memories when Steve manages to find the guy._

Except, a few days after Steve returns, she sits down next to Natasha on the couch, only to realize that the superspy actually let herself get drunk. The Black Widow, constantly aware of her surroundings, master of restraint, is drunk. Natasha babbles for a bit.

“I was so close, Toni, so close. I’ve done things, I know that, but I actually thought… I mean, I thought I would actually get a chance to forget, to be happy,” she says.

Toni is still struggling with the fact that Natasha is drunk, but she retains enough brain power to let out a monosyllabic, “What?”

“I think I actually loved him, Toni, but he left. He left. Why?”

With a shock, the genius realizes that Natasha is talking about Bruce. “This is really a conversation we should have when you’re sober,” Toni states. “Nothing I say is going to matter if you can’t remember it.” And yeah, that might not be the best idea, but Toni doesn’t know what to do. God knows that once the alcohol wears off Nat will never speak of this again, so it really is Toni’s only chance to get through to her. But talking to the spy while she’s so inebriated seems like a major intrusion of privacy.

Toni knows that Natasha trusts her less than anyone else on the team. Toni also knows that Natasha respects her even less than she trusts her. It’s probably something to do with Toni being an overall pretentious jerk and, you know, creating Ultron. The genius can’t really argue with it. But it means that, in this scenario, Natasha needs to shut up before she says something she’ll regret.

“Lets get you to your room,” Toni says, and helps the spy stand up. As they hobble down the hallway together, Toni speaks.

“Bruce loves you too, you know. He’s just feeling really guilty, and he’s terrified of himself. I know it hurts that he took the quinjet and ran off, but he did it with the best intentions. We can track him down together, okay? And you two can get everything straightened out.”

Toni dumps Natasha down on her bed, and turns to leave.

“Toni?” Natasha asks hesitantly.

The genius turns around. “Yeah?”

“What if he hates me? I’ve done so many bad things, I’ve killed people, I’ve-”

Toni stops her right there. “He doesn’t hate you. And you aren’t a bad person.” Before Natasha can protest, Toni turns off the light and flees the room. Later, she sneaks back in with a water glass. Natasha is too busy sleeping of the alcohol to notice.

The final nail in the coffin, though, is Wanda. Oh god, Wanda. It’s the way that she can’t smile, the way that Toni finds her on more than one occasion curled up, sobbing, a fist pressed against her mouth and her shoulders shaking silently. The way that she’s so, completely, utterly _broken,_ because Pietro is _dead,_ Pietro, her brother, her twin, the other half of her _soul._

_This is the path I started us on._

Toni knows about the shells. Oh yes, she’s very well aware of what inspired Pietro and Wanda to volunteer for experimentation. When she had found out, she had been in her lab, and had thrown up. Again. And again.

See, Ultron had left a little message for her. When he realized that he was about to lose, and that the twins had turned on him, he had had one of his bots bring her something. The machine hadn’t gotten close before Toni shot the thing out of the sky, but when she saw what was in its hand, she had to take a look.

Turns out, the robot was carrying a security tape.

“We wait two days for Toni Stark to kill us,” Wanda says bitterly, an undercurrent of _hate_ mixed with _fury_ running beneath her words, and Toni finds herself dry heaving on the lab floor for the next thirty minutes. She doesn’t think she’s managed to look Wanda in the eye since.

After that, all it takes is one last thing to push her over the edge. Compared to everything else, the event itself is fairly inconsequential, but it makes Toni realize that she can’t deal with this anymore. She literally can’t. She’ll go insane. 

All she wants is the time. She could have looked at a clock. But no. In a moment of forgetfulness, she asks, “Jarvis, what’s the time?” 

And waits.

And waits.

And then realizes that Jarvis is gone. Jarvis, who has been there ever since she had created him, no matter how much she messes up, no matter how much she yells at him in her lower moments, _no matter what,_ is gone.

This is what pushes her over the edge.

Toni doubles over, laughing. Because of course, _of course_ this is her life. Why did she ever expect anything better? Why, after so many years of heartbreak and disappointment, did she let herself believe for one minute that things would change? The only difference is now, instead of only watching herself self-destruct, she gets to watch others, whom she loves, do the same.

Because of her.

_This is the path I started us on._

Yes, it was all because of her. If she hadn’t manufactured weapons, all those innocents, Wanda, Pietro, their family, they would all be alive. If she hadn’t gotten so arrogant, if she had taken the time to think, she would have realized that she could never create something that would heal instead of hurt. Ultron would never have happened, Bruce wouldn’t have even more underserved guilt weighing him down, and he wouldn’t have broken Natasha’s heart, and Clint could have gone home sooner instead of almost dying, and if she had been more responsible, instead of hacking SHIELD she might have helped them and she might have noticed the Hydra infiltrators and the warning signs the tesseract gave off and Loki would never have been able to invade and Pepper, the woman who was like the mother she never had, would have been so much happier, would never have had to fix her drunken public mistakes, would have had so much less stress…

Her laughs turned to gut-wrenching sobs, and in her mind, she thinks firmly that she will fix this. She will.

Her stomach hurts and her vision dances with black spots by the time she calms down, and by then the answer is startlingly clear. Her newest goal firmly in mind, she wipes her eyes, swallows an advil for her headache, and begins. She gets Friday to run a search for energy signatures similar to any of the various magical beings, Asgardians, and other weird phenomena that the Avengers have dealt with. Six hours later, the search turns up gold.

It’s a small town in Russia with a name she doesn’t dare try to pronounce, and the place is lit up with enough odd energy it could practically be a mini-tesseract. She does a small amount of research, finds out that the place has dozens of legends about a wish-granting witch, and although it’s not quite what she’s hoping for, Toni figures that this is probably going to be the best bet she has. If she gets turned into a toad or flea-ridden cat as soon as she steps foot in the town, well, then, it’s nobody’s loss but hers.

Before leaving, Toni finally concedes to sleeping a full five hours per Friday’s wish. She knows that she needs to be at least halfway functioning for what she’s about to do.

In the morning, the genius tells Steve that Pepper’s got a problem and she needs to leave for a few days. (It’s not exactly a lie. Pepper does have a problem, the problem called Toni Stark, and she does need to leave for a few days.) He takes the bait, obviously imagining some kind of political issue with the board members of Stark Industries, and smiles sympathetically at her.

“Good luck,” he tells her.

“Thanks,” she says. “I’ll need it.” Normally, Toni would include a quip of some sort, or at least use whatever random nickname strikes her fancy, but her heart feels like lead and she can’t gather the strength to do more than smirk.

The supersoldier rolls his eyes, and Toni leaves to suit up. In fact, she’s just about to take off when Wanda appears in front of her, eyes glowing, and Vision steps out of the shadows.

“Where are you going?” Scarlet Witch asks. 

Toni looks away. “Pepper has a problem,” she replies. Vision’s head tilts, but he remains silent.

Wanda moves closer. “Your thoughts are guarded. You are planning something.” Her voice is heavy with accusation. Toni flinches.

“It’s nothing.”

“Watch your step,” Wanda says, equally parts concerned and threatening. She reaches out a hand laced with red energy, and grips Toni’s arm. The red sinks through the Iron Man suit and settles into her bones. “Think my name if you need help. I’ll hear.”

Toni makes a resolution to never do this, but appreciates the gesture, even if it doesn’t make sense. Why would Wanda, possibly the one living person that Toni has caused the most pain to, worry about her safety? Unless the spell is something else. But then Vision would say something, or at least given Toni a hint.

“Thanks?” Toni asks. 

Vision’s head tilts further to the side. “It’s true,” he says softly, with a strange mixture of horror and awe in his voice. “I didn’t think a human-” he breaks off.

Toni doesn’t understand the non-sequitur, but Wanda evidently does. Her grip tightens. Her jaw clenches and an even fiercer red flashes across her iris. She opens her mouth to say something, thinks better of it, gives a jerky nod, then backs away.

When neither of the two seem inclined to say anything else creepy or ominous, Toni flies away, distinctly unsettled.


	2. The Witch

When she lands, it’s snowing. The flakes come down like ash, covering the landscape in a depressing grey. The entire town is pulsing with energy in her scanners, but there’s one place where it’s particularly thick.

Toni walks up to the warmly lit house and is somewhat blindsided by its homey feel. She was expecting something a tad more hovel-like, to be perfectly honest. She pauses at the front steps.

“Are you sure you would like to continue, Ms. Stark?” Friday asks.

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m sure. It’s just…”

Even though Friday’s an AI, Toni feels understanding wash over her. “Should you be… unavailable in the future, I’ll keep an eye on them,” Friday says.

Toni violently deactivates her suit. The metal folds in on itself until the entire thing is a small briefcase. She leaves the box at the bottom of the steps, marches toward the door, and knocks.

A minute later the door swings open to reveal a woman somewhere in her mid-twenties. She smiles at Toni, and asks a question in Russian.

Huh.

Somehow, the genius had never considered that there might be a language barrier when consulting with a magical being. “Uh, do you speak English?” she asks hesitantly.

The woman frowns, and asks another question in Russian.

Toni rubs her temples wearily. “Well. This is awkward.”

The woman says something else, and this time Toni understands. “You seek my help.”

“So you do speak English.” Okay, so perhaps that’s not the most appropriate thing to say right now, but Toni’s never been one to worry about what the right thing to say is in a situation.

“I speak the language of retribution and searching souls,” the woman replies, pulling her into the house. She leads Toni down the hall into a sitting room. It’s lit by a fireplace, and the woman sits down on the cream couch facing the flames. Toni hovers next to the woman, unsure of what to do.

“Sit,” the woman gestures, pointing at the floor by her feet. Toni settles down on the carpet, crossing her legs, hoping that their positions are not in any way symbolic.

For a full ten minutes, the woman stares at her, and neither say anything. Toni fidgets, but doesn’t break the silence. She has a feeling that one wrong move could leave her very, _very_ dead. Better to let the witch dictate the conversation.

At last, the woman speaks. “You have come to me with a wish. What is your desire?”

Toni hesitates. She’s heard enough stories about wishes going horribly wrong that she wants to carefully sort through her words before she replies. She opens her mouth, once, twice, but stops herself.

“Don’t worry,” the woman says, waving a hand. “ _This_ isn’t official. But I must hear what burdens your heart.”

WIthout Toni’s permission, everything just sort of spills out. “I… I’ve made a few mistakes. And the people I love, they’re hurting because of it, and it’s going to get a lot worse, and they’ve already had terrible lives, and now they hate me, and I just… I just want to fix things.”

The woman eyes Toni, and a smile spreads across her face at the speed of molasses. A shiver travels up the inventors spine. “I see.”

“I wish I could just go back, and fix everything, and then maybe they’d be okay, and they wouldn’t hate me, and-” Toni slaps a hand over her mouth, horrified. She hadn’t meant to say any of that. It was as if she had no control over what was coming out of her mouth.

The woman grins. “I can do that,” she says. “But it will cost you.”

Toni swallows nervously, but she’s not going to go back at this point, no matter how dark the witches’ words are. “How? And what?”

“I’ll send you back to points in time. Points where you can say a word of comfort, give advice, steal an object, destroy things that later lead to grief… but you must never directly interfere. You can not leap in front of a bullet before it hits someone. You may not warn someone of an oncoming threat. You will be a shadow, unimportant to the moment. But if you are careful, take all the right steps, you will be able to impact the timelines far more than you could ever imagine.”

“I’ll do it,” Toni says, and she means it in a way she’s never meant anything before. It’s more than a promise, it’s stronger than an oath, it resonates through her body and settles beneath her skin.

The woman’s eyes glitter. “Oh, you shouldn’t have said that before you heard the rest. I’m afraid _that_ was official, my dear.”

Toni knows she should be afraid, or at least a little apprehensive, but inside all she feels is a deep determination. “I don’t care.”

The woman throws back her head and laughs. “We will see. The rules are thus. You can not tell anyone who you are, or what you are doing. Should you decide to tell someone that you are Toni Stark, that you are walking through time, it will all be for nothing. Events will revert back to their original course. 

“Secondly, if you die before your quest is complete, I can do nothing. You will be dead. This is not a simulation where if you fail, you wake up. The events that you have changed will remain altered, and these changes may affect the present to the extent you wish, or they may not. It is of no concern to me.

“Thirdly, should you alter events past the extent allowed, the price will be unbearable. I do not control time, I am merely allowed to interfere occasionally. If you directly intervene in an event, it will not be me who punishes you. Time itself will curse you, and the effects will be… well. I would not envy you.

“Finally, my gifts do not come without a price. You may be able save those you love. But even if you do, you will lose them. Not to death, not to tragedy, but you will lose them. Such is the the cost of balance.”

Toni closes her eyes, bracing herself. “What do you mean?”

The witch smiles sympathetically. For some reason, Toni feels that the expression is false. “You’ll figure it out.”

Toni forces herself to inhale and exhale normally, fighting the panic that’s rising up like a tidal wave within her. This doesn’t sound good. And not being able to directly interfere? How is she supposed to change anything, then? “I’ll still do it.”

“Of course you will. You no longer have a choice. Any questions?”

Toni thinks for a moment. “Will I be able to tell if I’m changing anything?”

“Every so often, I shall let you return to the present for a day. Anything else?”

“Do I control what points I go back to?”

“For the most part, yes. But if it becomes necessary, I am able guide you to a critical moment. Anything else?”

The woman’s voice is getting progressively more irritated. Toni decides that the rest of her questions really aren’t that important. Oddly enough, being turned into a frog still isn’t an appealing idea. “Not really.”

This time, the woman’s laugh is an outright cackle, and her words change from moderately old and elegant to blatantly modern and informal. “Suit yourself. But I’d watch out for the side effects. The tattoos hurt like a bitch, and it takes an unfortunate amount of time to get used to a different body.”

_“What?”_

“Too late. Question time’s over.”

Abruptly, Toni finds herself encased in a white box. It’s not a room, because rooms have doors, and sometimes windows, and this has neither. The box is big, but there’s no furniture, nothing but white on the ceiling, floor, and all four walls.

 _“Ready?”_ The woman asks in Toni’s head.

“What?”

_“Ugh. I already said that question time’s over. Don’t make me repeat myself.”_

“Um. What do I do?”

_“Sit down for one. Or your legs will be cramped to a frankly pathetic extent if you wake up.”_

Toni sits, and tries not to contemplate the “if” in that statement.

_“Good. Now think of where and when you want to go. Use an image, or describe it to yourself, but focus on that place entirely.”_

Toni closes her eyes, and holds a single thought in her head.

_"Good. Oh, and one last thing before you go. When I let you return for a day, don’t touch Wanda. "_

“Wh-”

_"I said question time’s over. Don’t do it, or the deal’s off. Everything reverts back to the original timeline. Call it an extra challenge for my amusement."_

A moment passes, then Toni feels a draft on her skin. She opens her eyes to find herself in a spartan bedroom with ballet music drifting through the open door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this is obviously a time-travel fic that's going to involve the individual background and histories of each Avenger (And others…). There are two paths I've been considering for this story. One, I do a LOT of research because I haven't read the comics, I use that, and probably get a few things wrong. Two, I just use the information I've gained from the movies and the snippets I've picked up from my friends. The rest of this story is based off the movies, anyway. If I went with the second option I could probably make this fic more angsty, and it would be easier for me to write.  
> So as long as no one reviews with "Don't you DARE mess up the backstory of my favorite character," I'm going with option 2. Fair warning.
> 
> And yes. I'm one of _those_ people who haven't read the comics. I acknowledge I am lame.


End file.
